


A Billion Little Beads

by avatar_dragon_rider



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Gen, Jesus - Freeform, Orphanage, Who am I, also if anyone has a good name for the orphanage please COUGH IT UP, and falling in love with one of the handmade jewelry booths, and naturally i thought 'newtmas au', because they refuse to be separated, farmer's market fluff, ffs thomas just get the guy's number and LEAVE, for the record thomas teresa and chuck aren't blood related, holy shit that's a tag wtf, i cannot for the life of me think of a good name, in the event i expand on this (unlikely) it might turn into a soulmate au, it was supposed to be a DRABBLE and then it turned into THIS, it's very loosely developed, just some minor worldbuilding like the orphanage and shit, like i could work just about anything into this honestly, this is ridiculously fluffy and so LONG, this literally came from me going to the farmer's market, vince and mary are just adopting all of them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 14:57:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15821220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avatar_dragon_rider/pseuds/avatar_dragon_rider
Summary: alternate title: "came for the corn, stayed for the porn"Thomas had not wanted to go to the farmer's market today. But all of a sudden he can't stop talking to the cute British boy making beaded jewelry while Chuck and Frypan roll their eyes at them from across the street.





	A Billion Little Beads

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS MY APOLOGY FOR THAT ANGST MONSTER I POSTED A FEW DAYS AGO. IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE SHORT. IT IS...NOT. IT IS ALMOST 2K. THAT'S LIKE THREE TIMES LONGER THAN I WANTED. WHAT THE HELL.
> 
> Anyway this is fluff without plot at the farmer's market ajhlakdjhgasksa ENJOY

For the record, Thomas had _not_ wanted to go to the farmer’s market today.

He’d just gotten home from his three o’clock class and it was already five and he just wanted to relax at home and do nothing until dinnertime. But Chuck, Thomas’s thirteen-year-old brother, had begged and pleaded and nearly cried before Thomas finally relented and agreed to take him.

That, and their sister Teresa absolutely _refused_ to drive downtown with all the dumbasses and their kids walking around like they owned the place.

“Okay,” Thomas said, standing on the street corner with Chuck. “Stay close to me. I don’t want you to get snatched up by any weirdos.”

“Thomas, I’m thirteen,” Chuck pointed out. “I walk to school by myself every day. I can handle roaming the market on my own.”

“It takes you ten minutes to walk to school from our house, and we know everyone who lives on the route you take.”

Chuck rolled his eyes. “You’re so overprotective.”

Thomas chose to ignore that comment and glanced at his watch. “Teresa said dinner would be ready by six-thirty. It’s five-fifteen right now. So we’ll walk for an hour then head home, deal?”

“Deal.” 

“And don’t eat anything that’s not a free sample,” Thomas added. That was a fiasco he very much did not want to repeat.

Chuck just snickered and tugged on Thomas’s arm. “Come on, let’s go already!”

With a heavy sigh, Thomas followed him down main street.

He had to admit, the farmer’s market was pretty cool. He could see why Chuck liked it. The road was lined on both sides by food trucks, at least twenty of them, ranging from barbecue burgers to authentic culture food to pizza and even ice cream. They stretched until the first intersection, and after that it was tent after tent of market stands, farmers from all over the area selling their fruits and vegetables and flowers and other homemade goods. Every time they came, Chuck insisted on buying a half-dozen corn from Frypan’s booth. Thomas and Frypan were good friends; they’d both lived in the orphanage together before Frypan had been adopted by a family of vegetable farmers. The match couldn’t have been more perfect. Frypan loved any and all things food.

While Frypan helped Chuck pick out some good sticks of corn, Thomas leaned against the table with his hands in his pockets, incredibly bored. He thought about all the homework he needed to do that night, the essay that was a week overdue that he still hadn’t written one word of, the lecture he was sure to get from Mary _again_ about procrastinating…

His attention was snagged by a booth he didn’t remember seeing last time, stationed across the street on the lawn near the parking lot. After making sure Chuck was safe with Frypan, Thomas quickly crossed the street and strode up to the new booth.

It was a jewelry station, three tables set up in a U-shape around a single chair. Handmade bracelets, rings, necklaces, earrings, and anklets were laid out on two of the tables, organized by style and color. The third table seemed to be the business table; a small metal box occupied one corner, presumably for housing money, and three boxes of beads dominated the opposite half. What was left of the table space was covered in sheets of paper describing the jewelry and listing various prices.

Sitting in the chair behind the business table was a boy about Thomas’s age, bent over a bracelet he was weaving with nimble, quick fingers. He had a soft, almost androgynous face that almost made Thomas second-guess his age, and fluffy blond hair kept out of his eyes by a small sky-blue barrette that pinned his bangs back. When he noticed Thomas standing there, he lifted his head and looked at Thomas with dark, chocolate-brown eyes.

“Can I help you?” he asked, his tone friendly and voice accented in a way Thomas had never heard in town before.

“Um…” Thomas cleared his throat, trying to rein his wild thoughts in. Fuck, this guy was cute. “No, just…just looking.”

Cute Blond waved a hand at the display tables, gesturing for Thomas to continue. “Have at it, then. Prices are listed on the sheets here. I also do custom designs if you want something different than what I have out.”

Thomas nodded, pretending to be interested in the bracelets while trying to figure out where this kid had come from. Most of the kids his age that lived here had been adopted out of the orphanage on 6th Street. Thomas mentally flipped through the names and faces of the boys he remembered getting adopted early - Alby, Winston, Ben, Stephen, George - but none of them matched Cute Blond. It boggled his mind. No one moved into this town unless they were going to St. Gladys University, the tiny college just up the road where everyone knew everyone. And Thomas had never seen this boy before today.

“You know you’re staring at me, right?”

Thomas was startled out of his thoughts by Cute Blond’s voice, jumping a bit and blinking himself back to reality. Apparently his gaze had wandered from the bracelets to the boy without his knowing.

“Uh, sorry.” Thomas rubbed the back of his neck. “I, uh, I was just watching you work.” He nodded to the bracelet the boy was weaving. _Nice save._

Cute Blond looked down at the half-finished bracelet in his hand and smiled a bit. “You like it? It’s a new design I’ve been trying to perfect. Something about it just doesn’t seem right to me. I think it’s missing something but I don’t know what.”

“Hm.” Thomas looked over the boxes of beads. He was no artist, but the boy did have a point. The bracelet was lacking something. “Maybe add another color? The pink and purple clash a little bit because of how close they are on the color wheel. Maybe add some blue, to help them blend?”

Cute Blond took a couple blue beads from the box and compared them to what he already had on the bracelet. “Hm. Not bad. I could work this in.” He smiled at Thomas. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Thomas smiled back at him. Before Cute Blond could go back to working on the bracelet, Thomas blurted out “So what’s your name?”

He wanted to slap himself. The kid was clearly trying to work and there were other people at the market who might want to buy something here (never mind the fact there was literally no one else around), and here Thomas was making a fool out of himself.

Regardless, Cute Blond tipped his head to the side a bit, reminding Thomas of a puppy when it perked its ears, and smiled a bit wider. “Sam. But I usually go by Newt.”

Thomas tilted his head. “Is your last name Newton or something?”

Newt snickered. “No. It’s a long story, but the short version is when I was a kid, there was an incident at school involving the science instructor’s pet newt, and it ended in Newt becoming my nickname.”

“Oh, okay.” Thomas definitely wanted to hear the full story, but decided now wasn’t the time. “Did you just move here?”

Newt nodded, working on his bracelet as he spoke. “Sort of. My parents died in a car accident a few years back. My little sister and I bounced around foster homes for a while until we were adopted by this lovely American couple about six months ago. We’ve been living here ever since.”

Thomas nodded. “Are you going to the university?”

Newt shook his head with a huff of a laugh. “Not this semester. I want to get a little more settled in first. My sister didn’t have much of a choice, though. She started her senior year of high school last week.”

“What’s her name?”

“Sonya-Elizabeth. I call her Lizzy.”

“You should call her Lizard. Y’know, since your nickname is Newt.”

Newt laughed, almost dropping the bead he was threading onto the bracelet. “That’s brilliant! How did I never think of that?”

“Because you’ve never met a genius like me before.” Thomas felt a heaviness lift from his chest. He liked Newt. He wasn’t like the boys Thomas had grown up with in the orphanage. Newt had a sort of…lightness about him. Like he carried sunshine in his pocket and wanted to sprinkle a little bit of it onto everyone he met.

“So have you lived here long?” asked Newt.

Thomas nodded. “Pretty much. I was placed into Warren Clark Kid Depository when I was six and lived there for about…ten years before I was adopted. Well, okay, I’m not technically _adopted_ yet, they’re still in the process because there’s three of us they’re trying to adopt at once and―”

“Whoa whoa, slow down, back up and freeze,” Newt interrupted. “Warren Clark Kid Depository?”

“Oh.” Thomas chuckled. “That’s not the real name of the orphanage. That’s just what we all called it because it was more entertaining.”

“Ah.” Newt nodded.

Before either of them could say anything else, Chuck came bounding over to them with a tote bag full of corn over his shoulder. “Thomas, what are you doing?” he asked. “You’ve been over here forever and―WHOA! Look at all the cool beads! Hold this.” He dumped the bag into Thomas’s arms and nosed around the display tables. “These are awesome!”

“Thanks.” Newt spoke through a snicker, watching Thomas nearly fall over from the sudden weight of the corn. Thomas just shot him a playful glare and shook his head.

“These are so cool.” Chuck looked up at Thomas. “You should get one of these for Teresa. You know, since her birthday is coming up and you _never_ know what to get her.”

“I don’t know, buddy.” Thomas perused the options, wrinkling his nose a little. “I don’t think she’d like any of this. She’s not a big jewelry person.”

“Yes she is,” Chuck countered. “She just always forgets to put it on if she’s not dressing up for something.”

Thomas rolled his eyes.

“Well, I do make custom designs,” Newt said, speaking mostly to Chuck since Thomas already knew this information. He opened his money box and took out a small business card, then handed it to Chuck. “My phone number and email address are listed on that card. I’m also online.” He tapped the card, pointing out the website link. 

“You got this all started up yourself?” Thomas was impressed.

Newt laughed and shook his head. “No, no. My adoptive parents have a whole business they’ve been running for decades. I’ve been doing it as a hobby for a while. That’s part of the reason we were such a good fit for them.”

“Ah.” Thomas nodded. “Well, it was great to meet you, Newt. See you around.”

“Yeah, see you.” Newt waved at Thomas and Chuck as they left the station so the couple behind them could have their turn.

Chuck pocketed the card, saying he wanted to look up Newt’s website when they got home. Thomas, however, wanted the card for an entirely different reason: that phone number.


End file.
